


Fortune's Favor

by jillyfae



Series: Before and After and Always [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Summer, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short fiction collection; companion pieces to <i>Behind Closed Doors</i>.  Not in anything resembling chronological order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misery comes in all shapes and sizes and temperatures. Just like love.
> 
> (Set before any possible Act III reconciliations.)

It was hot.

Even Fenris found it uncomfortable, and he'd thought himself accustomed to rain forests.

The air felt like water, hard to breathe, hard to see through, thick and wavery above the flagstones, sunlight reflecting off walls and rooftops, painfully bright and yet oddly murky at the same time.

The whole city also stank, of sewers and dead fish and dirty water. Everyone was trying to get flowers in from the country, incense from the Antivans, anything and everything to cover the smell.

Sebastian had even mentioned increased parishioners at the Chantry, lounging beneath thick stone walls during the heat of the day; stealing incense on their way out again in the evening, to cut the thick air in Lowtown.

Hawke had dragged her mabari up on the roof of the estate, where there was occasionally the slightest shift in air from the sea, and set up an awning and a giant bowl of water, trying to comfort the poor panting hound.

Everyone else had joined her, because, what else was there to do?

"It's even too hot to play cards," Isabela sighed, sprawled apparently bonelessly across one of the mats Bodahn had found in the cellar, and kindly strewn across the rooftop so they had a place to rest. "What I wouldn't give to be on deck, far enough out from the docks to just bask in some proper sea air."

"You've already given everything you've got, to anyone who'd ask, several times over," Aveline snorted. "Everything other people have too, I'm rather sure."

It was too hot to argue. Isabela simply lifted one hand to wave a rude gesture lazily in Aveline's general direction.

Fenris ignored the occasional grumbling, sitting against one of the poles set up to brace the awning, watching the dog.

How much worse must the heat be, for a creature so thick and solid, so heavy with muscle and hair, born and bred down south in the cold of Ferelden?

It was easy to admire the mabari, such a strong, forthright beast. Much easier that, then to _not_ notice Hawke or Sebastian, stripped out of their customary armours, miserable and hot even in simple breeches and thin blouses.

Fenris had ruined whatever it was he and Miri could almost have had, running away, but he didn't know how to turn around. He was quite sure he still loved her, but that wasn't enough, was it? He had to be able to face her, to face himself, to stop the grind of his teeth, the sear of his anger behind every thought and word and deed.

Not that there was any reason to suppose she'd welcome him back, even if he figured it out. She should be with someone who could be there for her; he could only hope she realized it as well. Maybe then she could find some happiness, something to counteract all the loss she'd suffered. It would be worth anything, if she was happy.

Sebastian chuckled softly at something she said in the background, and Fenris was suddenly grateful for how well he'd trained his face, those years before Kirkwall. The heat might make them lazy, but none of them were _blind_. Isabela or Varric, especially, would make note if his nostrils started flaring every time the Brother caught his attention.

He had no idea what had happened to his friendship with Sebastian, but somehow he kept noticing things when they were together. The shape of his collarbone when he took off his breastplate. The way his voice purred when he was amused, but his eyes stayed clear and kind.

"Copper for your thoughts?"

Fenris shifted his head to eye the object of those thoughts, as Sebastian settled to a seat of his own against the next pole over. "Not particularly in need of a copper."

Sebastian smiled briefly, a smooth twist of his lips. "Just as well, as I don't actually have one on me."

"Shouldn't promise something you can't deliver." Fenris stopped, jaw tight, surprised to have heard a hint of heat in his voice.

Sebastian's eyebrows lifted slightly, making his eyes appear large and even more blue than usual. _Hadn't known that was possible._ "My apologies, then. I won't disturb you further."

His eyelids closed, his head leaning back against the smooth surface of the wooden support. Fenris swallowed, unable to look away from the line of the other man's throat, the flash of heat in his chest impossible to deny.

Fenris loved Hawke. He knew that. He hoped she knew that.

But he'd let her go, let her be free. He'd made no promises of faithfulness. _And even if I had, I haven't_ done _anything_. Repeated application of logic was unable to ease the odd tangle of guilt he felt in his stomach. He wasn't sure if anything ever would.

Not blaming Sebastian for his own failings might be a start, however. "No," he shook his head slightly. "I'm so-"

"No need, Fenris," Sebastian's eyes opened part-way, just a hint of white and blue visible between his lashes. "I was a bit presumptuous. And this blasted heat..." He shrugged slightly, the muscles in his shoulders almost visible as they shifted beneath his pale muslin shirt.

"It is not the heat." Fenris refused to accept an easy excuse, or Sebastian's forgiving manners. "I simply... want something I cannot have." _Two someone's, apparently. I am nothing if not ridiculous in my desires._ "I apologize for taking it out on you."

"You know I will always listen." His eyes had opened completely now, his body leaning slightly forward. "If it would help."

"Not in this case." Fenris' eyes flashed to the side. _Not when you're the one..._

"Ahh," Sebastian sighed softly, his own gaze flickering briefly. "Of course." There was an instant's awkward silence, tension in his arms that Fenris couldn't interpret, his head tilted slightly as he stared off to the side. "She does still care for you, I believe. I would not call things hopeless."

Fenris snorted. Of course they were hopeless. He was hopeless, and even if she did still care for some inexplicable reason, could forgive, could understand something that he himself did not... that was only part of his problem.

"But, I did not mean to pry." Sebastian moved one leg, a smooth shift of weight as he lifted himself to his feet. "I shall see if Serah Orana has managed to discover any more fruit for juice. Or finished cooling another batch of boiled water, for the hound."

Fenris could not resist watching him leave, eyes blinking slowly closed only when the door to the Estate swung closed, silencing the steady beat of Sebastian's firm stride.

He shifted his back against the pole, only to be distracted by Hawke's face. She'd apparently been watching Sebastian leave as well, and now her clear brown eyes caught him, her expression soft but completely unreadable.

_I am sorry, Miri, you deserve better than you have gotten in this life._

_As do we all, I suppose._


	2. Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short side-drabble, set roughly concurrently to _Behind Closed Doors_ , from Fenris' POV. Quiet reflection, I suppose? Sappy reflection, might be more accurate. I have that problem a lot. <3

Fenris sighed, softly, and leaned back in his chair, trying to stretch the knot low in his back. Trying not to think about how much better Miri's fingers would feel, pushing against his skin to ease the muscles beneath.

_Work to do, first. In my chair. In my office._

He semi-regularly decided they must have lost one of their fights against a desire demon of some sort back in Kirkwall, and this was all an imaginary realm in the Fade. That theory made more sense than reality.

Reality should not include him being a person of influence. Free. Respected. _Loved._

Reality could not possibly include intimate knowledge of the way Sebastian's eyes glimmered in firelight, or how they darkened beneath his lashes when he was _admiring the view,_ as he liked to put it.

Miri frequently complained about those eyes, in a rough breathless voice that made it very clear how little she was actually _complaining_.

She said much the same thing about Fenris' eyes, and Fenris' voice, and the feel of his skin and the taste of his tattoos. Those were all remembered as _too good to be true,_ as well.

It was a very long list, nowadays, populated mostly by Miri and Sebastian. By the warmth of their bodies, and the taste of their lips, by the feel of them around him, above him, below him, never too far away.

Even more remarkably, it included the days when no one touched him at all, when the past came back to haunt him, and they gladly sat in the _other chair,_ or asked before fingers ran softly through his hair, or carefully did nothing more than place one chaste kiss against his forehead before retreated to their own work, content simply to share the same air, the same room, the same life.

He did not know how he'd gotten so very lucky, but he was quite sure he never wished to return to any possible reality without them.


	3. Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I combined two prompts from the kiss meme, so this is for both sia and shadoedseptmbr <3 (Thank you ladies, for your patience.)

Miri collapsed onto the far side of the chaise, an audible stutter catching her breath as Sebastian dug his thumb in next to the ball of her foot after she dropped both her feet in his lap.

"You do not look well."

Sebastian turned into his shoulder to cough. He couldn't precisely argue with Fenris' statement, but he'd been trying to figure out a more delicate way to bring up the circles under Miri's eyes, the tension in the skin over her temples, tight and fragile.

Miri just grunted, and his hands pausing in their massage with surprise. She wiggled her toes at him with a soft whine, and he started up again, though he could feel the crease between his brows deepening.

"Too tired to hurt you for that comment."

"Hmm." When Sebastian glanced up at Fenris he seemed more thoughtful than worried, and he returned Sebastian's look with something that was almost a smile. "I'll go get the tea tray for you."

"Bless you, that sounds wonderful." She sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides, one sliding off the cushion until her fingers dangled above the floor. "I may never move again, if you two keep this up."

Fenris made a soft almost hum of amusement as he headed out the door, footsteps silent as he crossed the rug.

"That is our job, is it not?" Sebastian smiled softly as he shifted his grip, careful to push hard enough he didn't tickle. He wasn't particularly fond of getting kicked.

"Running the City isn't enough work?"

"I think between you, you and Marta do most of that. I just sit around and look like a Vael so people feel some sense of continuity."

Miri rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, yes, you're very pretty and singularly useless, is that the story?"

Sebastian shrugged and opened his eyes very very wide as he glanced sideways towards her, delighted when she coughed something that was almost a laugh.

"At least _Fenris_ works, then. He has all those Guards to terrify. Worse than a mabari with her pups, even."

Sebastian chuckled. "You mean the way he pretends he doesn't care _at all_ and then hovers a step too close to the medic when one of them gets hurt?"

"Precisely." She smiled at him, but even that couldn't quite hide the shadows in her eyes.

His fingers moved on from her foot to start on the tight muscles of her calf. 

"Maker's Breath," her head fell sideways against the back of the chaise with something perilously close to a moan, her eyes closing even as she stretched the leg between his hands. "I may just make you do that _everywhere,_ I cannot remember the last time I ached this much."

"Everywhere, hmm?" He trailed one hand up her leg, tickling her inner thigh 'til she twitched her foot against his lap.

"Too tired. Even for you and your pretty eyes. I swear I woke up tired. At least I wasn't queasy, like yester -- "

She stopped mid-word, a moment after his hands had stilled, adding it all up shortly after he did.

He couldn't speak, his throat too tight to even swallow as he watched her slowly lift her hands, and settle them low on her stomach.

Fenris returned before either of them managed to move again, both of them caught in that moment of hope, attention focused on her hands, and what might be beneath them.

The slightest rattle of the tray against the table made them shift, at last, and Sebastian felt the ache of his heart at the look on Fenris' face, soft and open, his eyes alight and a clear lift of amusement in the slight smile he aimed at them. He shifted his weight smoothly, settling to his knees beside Miri, reaching out to touch, the soft slide of his thumb against her cheekbone, his voice low and warm. "Congratulations."

She exhaled one long breath, soft and shaky. "It's much too soon for that, there's no way to, we can't know, not yet, I mean," her fingers tightened above the curve of her stomach, her voice trailing off as she took a deep breath, her eyelashes dark against her cheeks as she blinked.

"Congratulations," Fenris repeated, whisper soft, rough and thick, so much held in check behind his eyes, hidden in the line of his back as he shifted forward. The brush of his lips against Miri's jaw was enough to make her sigh, her tension gone when she turned her face towards his, when she lifted her arms up between them, one hand curled against his chest, the other lifting to brush fingers gently along the side of his neck.

Sebastian held his breath as her bottom lip brushed along the length of Fenris' mouth. He couldn't even blink as she lifted her chin, and Fenris' neck curved, just enough, the slow press of their lips enough to spread the ache through his whole chest, one spike of love so sharp it hurt, deep in his heart.

He could feel her sigh in the shift of her legs and shoulders, hear Fenris' breath ease along with the shift of his weight on his knees, until they parted and she was smiling, Fenris was smiling, the sort of smile he so rarely permitted, wide and open enough to be seen from across the room.

She turned her smile toward Sebastian, and he was already moving, shifting up closer to them, pausing, braced above her body on the chaise, leaning down to kiss her stomach. He closed his eyes, his nose still resting against the fabric of her blouse, breathing in the scent of cloth and skin, the warmth of her body a salve to the restless swirl of hopes and desires and shadowed worries trying to land within in thoughts.

Miri made a sound, a caught breath, a broken sigh, sweet and sharp, and he lifted his head just enough to look at her, to see the tremble in the curve of her smile, and the almost golden shine of her eyes catching the light.

He heard Fenris then, a soft hum, and shifted his eyes to watch Fenris duck his head, his lips parting as he caught Sebastian's gaze.

"It's those eyes of his again." Miri's amusement threaded lightly beneath her words. "So unfair, how he uses them."

"What, by not keeping them closed and walking into walls?" Sebastian kept his voice light despite the shiver of anticipation in his hands, even managed a grin when Fenris snorted in response. He slid off the chaise properly, shifting to kneel by Miri's head, the heat of Fenris' body beside him as his thumb traced the shape of her jaw, lingering beneath her chin.

He caught her breath against his mouth, and then her lips, the barest brush as her hand reached up to rest against his cheek, so soft, and yet he felt that kiss all the way through his chest. His head was light and his heart flying and there were no words for the sudden clarity of his joy. 

Of their joy, all of them, _how did I get this lucky, all of us, together,_ and his hand reached for Fenris', a bump of knuckles as their fingers found their grip.

Miri laughed, low and soft and achingly beautiful, hands clasped in front of her mouth as if she couldn't believe the sound she was hearing herself make. 

Fenris tugged at his hand, and he turned towards him, feeling his own lingering disbelief fading, his skin flushing with delight and love and lust and the press of Fenris' lips as they kissed and the strength of his fingers, still holding Sebastian's hand.

It only took another breath, two, before celebration turned to something else, the warm flush of skin turned to heat shared between them, bodies pressing closer together, the grip of hands tightening, the quick glide of tongues and the shift of lips, harder, _needier,_ the groan in Sebastian's chest echoed by Fenris' growling breath.

They broke apart, a gasp of Fenris' breath hot against Sebastian's cheek as Sebastian turned to look at Miri again, the soft moan of her voice having interrupted them.

Her eyes were darker now, shadowed and warm.

"I thought you were too tired," Sebastian whispered, watching as she licked her lips.

She shrugged, a slow adjustment of weight making her blouse shift across her breasts. "I feel suddenly reinvigorated."

They all three leaned in closer, an impossible bump of noses and ragged breaths as they tried and mostly failed to kiss each other all at the same time, and then she was laughing again, high and delighted, as they tugged her off the chaise and half-dragged, half-carried her to the bedroom.


	4. masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally part of a longer prequel fic that never quite got written, I figured I should include this in the collection. Set during Act III.

Fenris was precisely on time. He had a velvet cloak, and a half-mask so dark a red it was almost black, and a sleek leather jerkin that did nothing to hide his tattoos, just as he had claimed to Varric, so many years ago.

It made her breath catch in her throat to see him like that, lithe and strong and mysterious and here only because she’d asked.

Miri very strongly considered cancelling their plans completely, and dragging him upstairs in order to do things to him until they both passed out. And then again, as soon as they woke up. And possibly a third time, just for good measure.  
  
Bodahn coughed softly, and she realized they’d both just been standing at opposite ends of the hearth rug staring at each other.

Which either meant he thought they both looked ridiculous and wished he’d never let her talk him into this, or that he felt much the same way she did and was counting the stairs to the bedroom. She wasn’t sure which because she couldn’t see his damn eyebrows through his mask, and it wasn’t as if Fenris was easy to read at the best of times…

And then one shoulder tilted in the slightest of shrugs. Miri grinned, recognizing the slightly embarrassed and amused reaction. He’d definitely been counting stairs.

“Shall we?” She grinned at him, feeling her cheeks brush against the back of her own mask, which was shaped of brass wire and didn’t so much hide her face as make her think she was doing a very poor impersonation of a dalish with shiny tattoos… but Lady Elegant had insisted that it was all the style and very becoming so Miri attempted not to worry about it and instead focused on taking little steps in her high heels and long skirt so she didn’t trip and kill herself.

Fenris tilted his head when she reached his side, so she gathered her stride needed some work still. ”Yes, I know I need to practice walking. Stupid shoes. Stupid silk.”

“This was your idea.” She was close enough now she could see the slight upward tilt of his smile, the slight purse of his lips as if he’d been about to say something more.

She lifted an eyebrow but realized when he didn’t say any more that her mask, while not completely opaque, probably did make it hard to see her expression. ”And?”

“I rather enjoy your new stride… ” he trailed off, giving a slight wave of hands in front of him to mimic her hips and illustrate his point.

She laughed, and headed carefully out into the foyer. ”Well, even if the party’s dreadful, we can enjoy eyeing each other all night, then?”

He snorted softly.

But stayed a step behind her.


	5. drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Hawke, after their first night

Her lips tasted of whisky.  His breath smelled of wine.

He thought, perhaps, he loved her, that she cared for him, but when their bodies touched it felt less like a caress and more like a fight; he was sparring in a match with rules and an opponent he didn’t understand.

It was thus no surprise to realize that he’d lost, that they’d broken something, coming together too hard, too fast, like a ship blown into a pier during a storm.

But still he had to face her when the storm had passed.  Still she asked him if he would fight with her, Aveline asked if he would be there for the weekly game, and he found he could not tell them no.

Could not bear to show his wounds to the open air, and so he pretended he was fine.  They both pretended they were still whole, no cracks beneath their skin, no loss shadowing their thoughts.

It got both easier, and harder, as the years passed, practiced toasts as Varric’s dealt or Isabela laughed.  And always he wondered what she was hiding, what she wasn’t.  He wondered if he would ever feel solid, if the hollow ache inside his chest would ever fill, or if he would just collapse in around it until there was nothing left of him but shadows and rage.

Still he met them all at the Hanged Man, and Norah would bring her tray, and they’d all take their glass, and he’d close his eyes and wish, before he drank, that someday it would be just him and Hawke, and they’d do it right the second time, no drinks, no pain, no regrets.

But it was not yet that day, and the rum burned its way down his throat.


	6. mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [for aleusha](http://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/111048599518) ... Fenris and his time between acts without Hawke.

He kept himself busy.

He’d always had plenty of work, mostly merc groups and caravans.

The first few had been recommended by Varric, or Varric had recommended him to them, it was never really clear which way Varric’s stories went, but after awhile he had a name of his own, and a few contacts who knew where to find him, and what sort of work he liked best.

It wasn’t hard to find a few more, and then more, until the bones in his hands and feet ached enough he could ignore the burn of his brands, until the knot in his shoulders was tight enough he’d fall asleep too quickly to think.

Even so, sometimes in the grey twilight of dawn or dusk, his grip on his hilt would ease, and he’d let himself remember.


	7. first love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this isn't actually about Fenris or Sebastian ... this is much older than that, about Miri's first love. I combined [prompts from thelastgreatpoolparty and leahazel for this one](http://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/61134520717).

Her name was Allison.

Her husband had died in the same fevers that had taken Malcolm.

Miri had never bothered to speak to her,  _before._

Allison usually let her husband do the talking, after all,  _(p-p-poor Alli, the school-children snickered behind her back)_ , and Miri had followed her father's wishes and mostly kept to herself, in town.  

Too many secrets to keep, after all.

That seemed stupid, now, hiding away because of something that  _might_ have happened.

He'd died, anyways.

All his care, all his rules, all his precautions, and they hadn't saved him.

Mother had taken the twins home after the ceremony, Bethany pale and still, Carver tense and liable to hit someone if he stayed too long.

Miri went to Dane's.

Allison was there, staring into an empty pint glass, swaying slightly in her seat.

Miri sat across from her, and met her eyes, and Allison blinked at her, before managing something that was almost a smile, and a slow nod of understanding. One hand settled on top of Miri's, warm and heavy, a short press of weight before she lifted it again, waving Danal over for more drinks.

Miri rather lost track of how many refills Danal brought, neither of them saying much, neither of them quite crying, though they weren't completely not crying either, damp eyes and sniffles and the occasional wavering toast as they downed the last dregs from their glasses.

Danal finally took pity on them, sometime in the wee hours of the night, and shoved them in a spare room for the price of their last round, rather than letting them collapse outside in the mud on their way home.

Miri woke with a thick tongue and a throbbing head and the weight of a woman's head on her shoulder, an arm sprawled across her chest.

She'd never actually fallen asleep with anyone besides Bethany or Carver before, and beyond the ache of each breath as she tried not to blink, the low slow wave of nausea receding through her stomach, making the room seem liable to shift like she'd always imagined a ship at sea at any moment, she was painfully aware of the line of Allison's body pressed to her, the warmth, the weight, the light caress of dark brown hair soft against her jaw.

The sour smell of alcohol and sweat, warm and sickly, was the only thing unpleasant enough to make it clear she wasn't dreaming.  And it wasn't so unpleasant she couldn't mostly ignore it, lying there, listening to Allison breathe, blinking slowly as the room slowly lightened, sunlight hot enough to tease just a little through the heavy drapes.

It was difficult to remember the darkness of the night before, ale and loss and sorrow, when confronted by the warm fragile shift of hope in her heart.


	8. Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for [quark](http://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/99245452423) on her birthday
> 
> because puppies (and puppy eyes)

The dog quite possibly weighed more than he did.

Its bed looked nicer than many a one he'd had in his life.

The roof leaked a bit, but even so, it was mostly warm and dry, if smelling a bit rank.

Apparently that was the dog?

Or perhaps the Uncle. It was difficult to tell.

He'd heard Fereldans called Dog Lords before, which was clearly intended to be an insult.

Perhaps it was supposed to claim they stank?

He'd smelled much worse though, he didn't think it was all that bad.

And listening to the low rumble of the dog's voice as he stretched, watching the play of muscles beneath his skin as he stood, noting how thick and solid his jaws and neck were, but how easily he moved them, how almost _playful_ he looked, ears up as he turned towards Hawke, Fenris was at a loss to understand how being compared to such a beast could be insulting.

"Have you trained him to fight with you?" Fenris asked, as Hawke finally ushered them out the door, the dog padding surprisingly quietly behind them.

Hawke snorted a laugh, and reached out a hand to scratch the top of the dog's head. "You don't train a mabari, Fenris. You feed him and take care of him and hope he deigns to train _you._ "

Fenris felt his breath catch in a grunt, sure, for just a moment, that Hawke was somehow insulting him with that story.

But then Hawke smiled, that strange bright open expression that still always startled, and he realized it had been a completely honest answer.

"Has he trained you to fight with him, then?"

Hawke laughed again. "I like to think so."

"Do you think he might ..." Fenris felt his voice catch this time, somewhere down between hunched shoulders. _Presumptuous, foolish question._

He started to shake his head, and stopped, as Hawke's head tilted to look down at the dog rather than comment on his half a sentence.

"What do you think, boy?"

Fenris held himself very still, as bright dark eyes lifted and focused on him.

The jaw dropped, a hint of a tongue rolling to the side of his mouth as the beast breathed, and then he barked, loud and sharp.

Hawke was staring at him, that bright open smile somehow even wider. "Go on."

"Go on, what?" Fenris barely felt his mouth move, unsure what the dog would do if he moved, those eyes still fixed on him.

"That was a yes. You need to say thank you. Or possibly pet him. He likes ear scratches. And chin scratches. Basically he's a big baby and loves attention. And scritches."

"Thank ... you?" Fenris managed, wondering what had happened to his life that he was walking freely through Kirkwall talking to a dog, as if the dog could understand him.

There was no doubt the dog could understand him.

There was very little doubt the dog was smarter than many a human he'd had to talk to, over the years.

Said dog barked again, the jaw dropping a little further, and he stepped forward to very gently nudge the side of Fenris' hand with his nose.

Fenris turned his hand, and felt the cold damp press of the nose against the bare skin of his palm, felt the air move as the dog breathed, and slowly, carefully curled his fingers to scratch through the short thick fur on the dog's chin.

The dog's tail shifted, and Fenris felt himself smile.


End file.
